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Steel. That's what it smelled like.
I was tripping over words to try and describe what this shit hole smelled like. Took me a minute, but never could come to a conclusion.
I've been stuck on this rustbucket for the past 5 hours and already it feels like I was born and raised here.
I tried to take a nap, but between the sounds of people talking, yelling, mothers comforting their children, security droids on patrol, the aching of the bullet hole in my forearm, as well the FUCKING ENGINES CONSTANTLY SCREECHING LIKE BANSHEES I couldn't get a minute of sleep.
People were crowded together, waiting for the doors to open. A couple guys standing beside me tried getting a bit too big for their prosthetics and tried groping me, but after showing off my mantis blades they turned right around and talked amongst themselves.
After that ordeal I tried to take my mind off of what the hell I had to go through to get on this flying trash can.
It's almost incomprehensible that any person needed to go through that. And even now, kicked out of my own country, it always feels like those fuckshits that broke into my house and shot me in the arm are right behind me.
Thankfully, I was interrupted by the loud sound of metal nearly crashing onto the ground; we were landing.
Everyone started getting rowdy, shoving, and pushing their way to the front of the ship. They looked like animals trapped in a cage, clawing their way out.
The sound of the hydraulics controlling the door screamed and the bed dropped. Everyone started sprinting out while the guards and armed security droids rounded people into orderly lines.
The rain poured down like a stab wound to the neck.
The smell of steel and sweat changed to the oddly peaceful smell of rain, trickling down on the concrete.
I was closer to the back of the horde, so when it was my turn there was a lot more room to breathe. I made sure to pull up the hood on the jacket I stole at one of the stores back at the Tokyo port to hide myself from any of UA's goons. A security droid stationed at his post ushered me into one of the checkpoint lanes, and the line was massive. I could count at least 200 people. It would take several hours to even move an inch. This was much worse compared to the shuttle.
Their were several other droids standing watch. In fact, I recognised that model, it was a cobalt robotics HAMR mkIII, their newest model. They're tough sons of bitches, but not very bright.
To pass the time I looked over my surroundings, the city skylines off in the distance sporting hundreds of bright neon holograms and signs, trying to hide the darkness underneath with flashy corporatism. It's all bullshit. Nothing about this place is like what the signs say, all an illusion made by these corporate bastards to make it seem like this place was a haven for personal freedom.
A loudspeaker crackled and blared, WHEN ARRIVING AT THE CHECKPOINT KIOSK, BE SURE TO HAVE YOUR PASSPORT AND DOCUMENTATION READY, then began repeating this message in multiple languages.
A nearby sign had posted, "Night City calls! And it welcomes, opportunity!"
Then, out of the blue there was a man yelling and a rock being thrown at the screen, hitting the fake man on the screen in the face. The rock deflected off and hit a droid in the head, causing it to turn around and walk towards the man. The droid pointed its rifle at the man, who got into a fighting stance. Another droid walked up behind him and used the butt of its gun to hit him in the back of his head. The man fell to the ground in a second flat while the droids grabbed his arms and dragged him off.
It was about an hour and a half later when I got to the checkpoint. A young boy with yellow hair that had a lightning bolt drawn in ushered me towards his station. I looked over my shoulder and walked to him.
"Documentation please, " he said with a smile on his face. I grabbed them out of my pocket and put them in the bin that had shot forward. The bin pulled back and he took the documents out of the box. He pressed the central button and it launched upwards, displaying all of the info holographically. "What's your reason for coming to Night City?" he said, scanning over the passport.
"New home." I say with my arms crossed and a smirk on my face, seeming cocky as shit.
He starts to seem a bit confused and expands the portrait on the passport next to my face, comparing them.
"Ma'am… These photos don't match up that well." he said in a confused tone
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" I said, raising my voice. He lets out a heavy sigh, and starts chuckling
"What the fuck is so funny?" I said, forming my hands into fists and letting out a low growl.
"Heheheheh… Listen, I know for a fact this is forged, the ID code is 1532. There are no 15 months or 32 days in a month. If you could give me you're real passport, maybe I won't have the droids shoot you." he said with a slight smirk on his face. Begrudgingly, I put the passport in the bin, he pulled it back and began reading it.
"Name: Momo Yaoyorozu, ID code; Mike, Oscar, Yankee, Alpha, 0923, Prior convicti-" he stopped and stared at the 3 words in large red font…
"Persona Non Grata."
Those three words are the reason I'm here, The reason i've got a bullet hole in my arm, the reason UA is after me. All because I stabbed a man.
"I-... Im sorry ma'am but… I, I just can't let you through. It's against protocol. I'll get you on a shuttle back to tokyo as fast as I ca-" i cut him off with a hard slam on the desk, revealing a credit chip.
"If you let me through, this is yours." I said looking down at my feet. He looked around and over his shoulder, looking for any other employees watching him through the glass, Before looking back at me.
"Tch, fine. Just hand it over and get out." he said opening the bin and taking the cred chip.
"Thanks." I said holding up a peace sign and walking out with a smirk.
While heading out, I noticed something, the city's lights lit up the streets with an angelic glow. At first glance, this glow could make somebody think this was a great place full of happy energetic people with great backgrounds and cultures. But once you spend a couple minutes one of two things can happen: one, your shot in the head. Two, your kidnapped and THEN shot in the head.
It was roughly 8 at night when I got out of there and as I'm walking down the street I think to myself, where the fuck am I going to sleep?I decided I could try and get something to eat first and then go find an alleyway to sleep in. I'm not sure what I would even want for dinner since I only had well, 8 dollars to my name.
While walking down the street I came across a little ramen bar and sat down at one of the open seats.
Next to me there was a guy wearing a poncho with a mohawk eating wasabi like ice cream, weird. And to my right there was another guy eating wasabi like ice cream!
At this point I'm starting to wonder where the hell I ended up as from what I've seen maybe I should've just gone straight for an alleyway
"hey busty how you doing?" one of the guys said behind the counter, snapping me out if my thoughts.
"um… what the hell?" I asked completely dumbfounded.
"I said, hey busty. How. You. DOING?" he said rudely pointing at my breasts
"the name's not busty cock-sickle. And I'm fine." I retorted rudely.
"whatever tits. Whatchu want?"
"Ramen bowl."
"*sigh* sure." he said as he walked off
Now I definitely think I should've gone to an alleyway instead. As soon as my inner monologue shut up one of the guys belched violently and slammed his head on the counter before mumbling "done…"
One of the other workers heard him and ran over to inspect his bowl, he picked it up and used his optical scanners to check for any large parcels of wasabi, to his surprise he found none and promptly screamed "WE GOT A WINNER!" as he started cheering and the other patrons started clapping.
At this point I'm completely lost. Is this a wasabi eating contest? A strange new sport? Masochism? One of the waiters came back my way with a bowl of ramen and placed it in front of me with a pair of cheap silicone chopsticks.
"here you go tits. Enjoy your flavored shit." he remarked and walked off.
Before he walked off I yelled at him, trying to get his attention before he turned back around and walked over.
"What the fuck do you want now tits?" he growled rudely
"Why the hell are these guys chugging wasabi like german prostitutes at Oktoberfest?" i asked holding my hand out in a confused manner
"Oh, that. It's a contest."
"A contest for… what exactly?"
"Whoever eats an entire ramen bowl full of Kamikaze Wasabi in under 5 minutes, gets a free coupon for a maintenance check up at Vice's down the street," he said, pointing at a holographic sign of a prosthetic arm flexing. A free check up? Oh ho ho ho… I like the sound of that.
"Alright cocksickle. I'll take your contest." I responded with a cheeky smile.
"Alright tits. I'll go get the coffin." he said, getting a bowl and filling it with wasabi then putting It on the counter. It was a putrid green and red mix that smelled like how satan being denied an ejaculation feels.
"Alright tits. You got 5 minutes. Pick up the chopsticks when your ready." he said while opening up a panel on his arm, revealing a stopwatch. He got ready to start it when a crowd of people started crowding around, wanting to see how this went. Once I steeled up my nerves, I picked up the chopsticks, nodded, and it all went downhill from there.
The wasabi felt corrosive. I nearly choked when it touched my tongue and gave up, but the sound of an actually working mantis blade was to much to pass up. I thought if I did this any longer my tongue welt fall out of my mouth. People watched me culp down the wasabi like alcohol and a few even cheered, pushing me to keep going. But before I knew it,
"TIMES UP!" the shithead waiter said. I put my bowl down and felt nearly sick to my stomach. Clenching it with agony but still trying to keep my composure.
"Sorry tits, no dice." he said, picking it up and cleaning it out
I wiped my mouth with my jacket sleeve and gave him three dollars before walking off, but not before puking in the street.
My head started to throb horribly. It was a struggle to walk down the street. And with the rain starting to pick up I knew I needed to find somewhere to sleep. After a bit more walking and fumbling down the sidewalk, I peeked around a corner store and found an alley! Looks like there's a trash can, some news papers, an old bottle of vodka and… a snapped off prosthetic finger
"That'll *burp* do."
I walked over the old newspapers and fell on my ass while grabbing the newspaper and vodka.
"Here's to another shitty *burp* life." I cheer to… nobody and take a heavy swig of the vodka and collapse on the concrete
Hey guys! sorry its been... what, 1? 2 years since I was last wrote a story. Anyway sorry for being gone for so long but im back with my quote on quote "magnum opus"!
P.S. I dont own cyberpunk 2077 or MHA, those belong rightfully to CD Project Red and Kohei Horikoshi!